But I'm a Guitarist!

I’m not exactly sure why I left. I was just so overcome by an emotion that I’d never felt before, and it was driving me crazy because I didn’t really know what to do about it. I couldn’t brush my teeth without thinking about Gerard. I couldn’t go to bed without thinking about Gerard. I couldn’t play guitar, or use the bathroom, or even eat my dinner without Gerard’s beautiful face consuming every thought. I couldn’t even dance one goddamn dance without thinking about Gerard. And he obviously felt none of this for me. This had never happened to me before.

I sat my butt down on an empty crate in the dark alleyway and took a small breather as I lit up a cigarette. I tried to calm my nerves, clear my mind, but nothing was working. It wasn’t long though before a voice interrupted my thoughts.

“What are you doing?” Gerard asked as he exited the bar. I looked at him and then back at the ground. “Just having a smoke,” I mumbled, half-hoping he would turn around and go back inside. The other half of me wished he’d stay here forever, make this dirty alley our home, and never leave.

He came over and sat next to me, closer than I’d ever been to him. He smelt amazing, like a mixture of coffee and cigarettes. He smelled comfortable and warm, like a warm fire on a winter’s day. I shook my head trying to clear the thoughts and moved over on the crate, giving him more room.

“Do I have a disease or something?” he turned to ask me, eyes penetrating my own. I never realized the beautiful innocence in his eyes. I looked down quickly, because yes, there was something about him, something that made me want to stay in his arms forever, something that made me want his soft lips to touch me. And it was addicting, but it was bad.

“Yeah,” I mumbled once more, not really guessing how it sounded, but I wasn’t being mean. I was just stating the truth.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he was getting angry now, and maybe it was better that way. Maybe once I saw that he wasn’t all he’s cut out to be, every moment of my existence wouldn’t be about him.

“Look, I’m sorry if I offended you.” I told him. And I was sorry, and I was sorry for everything I said after that. “Why don’t you get back into the bar with your little friend? I’m sure he’d be more than happy to attend to you!” I wasn’t mad, really. It was hard to muster up enough energy to call him out when I wasn’t that into it. I just wanted to wallow in my own pity alone, without an audience.

“Look!” he finally stood to his feet and got in front of me so I could see his face. He started pointing his finger at me. “This isn’t about you! We came here to have a good time! To hang out with people who don’t give a fuck about who we are—“

“No,” I interrupted him, my temper rising. “We came here so you could have a good time. I came here because you asked. And what Gerard wants, Gerard gets!”

“And now you’re blaming all this on me?!” he asked loudly over the noise pouring out of the bar. He backed up and laughed humorlessly before continuing. “You’re unbelievable. You didn’t have to come! I was being nice by asking! You’re MORE than capable of saying no!”

“You’re the one who had to be my fucking ‘heterosexual’ friend!” I argued with no point at all, but getting more angry even so. I needed to make him understand that it wasn’t okay. “You were the one telling me all this shit that they teach us is completely fake! You’re the one who was calling me a fucking pansy! You’re the one who looks so fucking gorgeous tonight that I couldn’t say no if my life depended on it! I have no choice when you look at me like that! You look at me like I actually matter to you!” I got a little quiet as what I just said sunk in, but I just continued, ignoring my lack of judgment. “You don’t know how long it’s been since someone’s looked at me like that.”

The truth had come out at last and I really didn’t mean it to do so. I didn’t know how long I’d been on my feet, but I made my way back to the crate and sat down to try calming down.

I buried my head in my hands. “Oh, God,” was the only thing I could spit out. It was fine when I kept it all to myself, but now that I let the words slip past my mouth, my life was over. Everyone was going to find out, Ms. Mackenzie was going to know, and she would tell my mother. And my mother, of course, would have to discuss it with my father and then who knew what they’d decide.

Shit.

I brushed my hair back and I put another cigarette in my mouth. I tried to light it, but shaking hands wouldn’t let me. I tried again when two new hands pushed mine away. I looked up at Gerard, kneeling in front of me with his own lit cigarette between his lips. He slowly approached me, his eyes questioning me, wondering if this was okay, as if I would reject him and look away. He finally attached the ends of our cigarettes and I sucked inwards, hoping the moment would last.

I shook my head, hoping to diminish the thought, but it was still there. Gerard went back to sitting next to me, but this time I didn’t move away. This time I welcomed his smell and everything attached to it. It startled me a little, when he started to speak.

“Frankie,” Gerard said softly, without looking at me, almost as if he was ashamed or scared of what he was about to say. “You’ve always mattered to me.”

As soon as Gerard said those words it seemed as if the world stopped spinning, and all of that energy was put into my heart as it shot off like a rocket. It was as if I finally found my way home after being lost for so long. Nothing mattered except Gerard and I.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” I told Gerard. We still couldn’t muster up the courage to look at each other.

“I’m not,” Gerard replied with a small smile. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was there.

“So what do we do know?” I asked and finally looked up to him.

“Well,” he started out. He took the strand of hair that had fallen into my face and put it back behind my ear. “I would really like to kiss you right now.” When I didn’t reply he asked, “If that’s okay?”

I smiled shyly and was suddenly scared of being a bad kisser. What if I did it wrong? No one’s ever said anything about my kissing before.

But the way Gerard was looking at me, with a small hopeful smile, and the way he cautiously held my hand, convinced me that maybe everything would be okay. So I did what I dreamt about doing for a long time. I leaned in and softly pressed my lips against his

As soon as our lips touched and my eyes fluttered closed, I knew I had to be somewhere I’d never been before. Maybe heaven, or even hell, or maybe it was just in my mind. But the kiss wasn’t like something I’ve ever experienced before. I felt high, yet extremely sober at the same time. Everything was so clear, yet my mind was so fogged by the lips that touched me that I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. My stomach felt a million miles high from here, but I loved every second of it. Kissing Gerard was a million times better than I had ever dreamed and I had dreamed of it quite a lot.

We were finally forced to part due to lack of breath, but as soon as we sucked back in enough air to last even a few seconds longer we were back at it. The only difference between this kiss and the last was our confidence level, and the fact that my hands had found their rightful place, one on Gerard’s cheek, caressing his soft skin and another against his chest, which weaved to the back of his neck to pull him closer. Gerard’s hands weren’t so different than mine, snaking their way around my waist and pulling my hips even closer to his own.

And that was bliss.